


Hunger

by Necrophagist



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloodplay, Implied D/S relationship, M/M, Vampires, donor!Sephiroth, vampire!Cloud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necrophagist/pseuds/Necrophagist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keeping a vampire well-fed is difficult when they're stubborn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> For my subordinate – I am so proud of you.

When Cloud returned from his training session, the latest in a long line of brutal tests of his progress, it was not with his usual tired but triumphant smile; rather, his expression conveyed utter exhaustion. His skin was a pasty shade of greyish-white with deep circles, like bruises, under his eyes, and a glistening sheen of sweat coating his forehead and exposed arms. The locks of his messy hair clung raggedly to his temples in wet clumps, and the hand that clutched the handle of his sword shook under its weight.

He paused in the doorway of the flat and sucked in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh, lifting one hand to rub his brows as the headache he had been fighting began to settle in. The place looked deserted– the television was dark, the pillows and blankets on the sofa remained as untouched as they had been when he'd left hours ago, and Sephiroth's laptop computer sat on the coffee table, closed and cold.

"Damn," Cloud said under the breath of another sigh, closing his eyes briefly before shutting the door behind himself and locking it with a set of keys that he fished clumsily from his pocket. He had hoped for a quiet, cozy evening with the General, perhaps sharing a pot of tea before falling asleep together in front of a movie, but it appeared that Sephiroth had made other plans.

After leaning his sword against the wall, he headed down the short, unlit hallway toward the restroom in the hopes that a bath would help draw some of the ache out of his muscles. The small room seemed less sterile with only the night light illuminating it, so he avoided turning on the overhead fixture and instead went straight for the tub and a large jar of lavender-scented salts.

As he leaned over to turn on the faucet, the sound of mattress springs creaking in the adjacent bedroom caught his attention. "Seph?" Cloud called softly, turning to look out into the hallway. When there was no reply, he poked his head out the door and looked toward the bedroom door, and upon pushing it open he could make out a barely-visible green light inside, bleeding into the darkness.

"Welcome home, Cloud." Sephiroth's voice came from the direction of the bed, and Cloud made his way carefully toward it in the dark, putting out one hand to find his way just before bumping the desk with his hip and barely managing to bite his tongue to avoid swearing.

"Thanks," the Lieutenant replied wearily, and reached for the chain of the overhead fixture. "Mind if I turn on the light? I can't see a thing– "

"Don't," Sephiroth said abruptly, and his voice splintered. "It would be too painful right now. Here, I can see you, let me help..."

Cloud stood still by the desk as the mattress springs creaked again with Sephiroth's movements, and it wasn't until his eyes fully accustomed to the darkness that he realized the source of the faint glow: his superior officer's eyes.

"Seph, what the _hell_?" he demanded as Sephiroth's hand closed gently around his wrist to lead him to the bed. "You weren't scheduled for the labs tonight, I checked before I left to make sure you wouldn't be alone when you got home–"

"I wasn't at the labs, don't worry." Sephiroth lowered himself back onto the mattress slowly– as if movement was uncomfortable– and coaxed Cloud down onto the bed with him. The sheets and blankets that the General had been laying in were warm, feverishly so. "I took some of your supplements. Don't worry, I'll replace them before you run out."

Brows furrowed, Cloud gazed up in the direction of Sephiroth's face, approximating its location by the glow. "Your eyes are glowing. You've overdosed."

"Not the first time," the General replied, the hint of a smirk evident in his voice, "and it won't be the last. This time at least, it's for a good cause."

Before Cloud could open his mouth in an attempt to clear up his mounting confusion, Sephiroth took his hand and pressed something cold, thin, and metallic into his palm. It was a shape so intimately familiar to him, so heavily imprinted on his psyche, that he recognized it immediately... but it couldn't be, it didn't make sense.

"A scalpel? Why?"

Sephiroth smiled, Cloud could see that much now that his eyes had grown accustomed to the glow. "You aren't as good at hiding things as you think you are, Lieutenant," he said in that gently authoritative voice that was reserved only for Cloud. "You haven't fed in weeks, you've been forgetting your supplements, and you're losing more energy than ever during training... I can practically watch it leaking as you fight. You know how bad this is for you."

Cloud glanced up at Sephiroth's face before lowering his gaze almost immediately. "I didn't want to ask to feed, not now. Not lately."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not the only one who's tired, Sephiroth." Cloud swallowed, seeming to be having some difficulty speaking the words. "You've been busy too. Training the new cadets, extra lab visits... I couldn't ask for something like that when you're probably just as drained as I am."

Sephiroth lifted one hand and cupped Cloud's chin gently in his palm, brushing the curve of his cheek with his thumb and studying the hollow beneath the bone; a hollow that had only recently appeared. "Cloud, haven't I told you to always come to me no matter what? I have never been, nor will I ever be, too tired to give you what you need."

"I know." Cloud covered Sephiroth's hand with one of his own, still holding the scalpel in the open palm of the other. "I guess sometimes I just forget that the Great General Sephiroth really is indestructible like the rumors say."

Sephiroth gave a quiet laugh, a raspy exhalation that hurt his throat, and lowered his hand to squeeze Cloud's bicep. "Damn right I am. Now..." He gestured to the scalpel and reached down to close Cloud's fingers around it. "I've already sterilized it, and there are bandages waiting on the bedside table. I want you to feed."

Cloud swallowed hard. "Is that an order, General?"

"That is an order, Lieutenant."

With a trembling hand that he tried desperately hard to still, Cloud raised the scalpel, the blade hovering uncertainly over Sephiroth's bare chest. "Anywhere?" he whispered.

"Yes."

Slowly, with as much gentleness as he could manage, Cloud lowered the blade and made a shallow incision in the soft flesh below Sephiroth's collarbone. The General winced, but only barely, as the wound opened and a thick black rivulet of blood began to seep from it.

"Are... are you _sure_?"

Sephiroth raised both eyebrows and set his jaw, fixing Cloud with a stern expression that wordlessly affirmed the order he had already handed down, and Cloud bowed his head in acquiescence to it.

Slowly he pressed his lips to the incision, flicking his tongue to lap up the drops that had already spilled, and made a quiet sound in his throat at the pleasurable burning sensation against his lips from the mako in the General's bloodstream. Sephiroth, content, leaned back against the headboard, cradling the back of the Lieutenant's head in one hand. Running his fingers through the damp hair of the only man he trusted to come near him with a scalpel, he shut his eyes, plunging the room into velvety, comfortable darkness.


End file.
